


Godless

by MiladyMorningstar (PrincessPestilence)



Category: Actor RPF, This Is the End (2013)
Genre: Blood Kink, Blood and Gore, Blood and Torture, Bloodplay, Cannibalism, Canonical Rape/Non-con, Dubious Consent, Emotional/Psychological Abuse, Execution, Horror, M/M, Murder Kink, POV First Person, Rape/Non-con Elements, Sexual Slavery, Stockholm Syndrome, Unsafe Sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-05-27
Updated: 2014-05-27
Packaged: 2018-01-26 18:00:04
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,487
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1697372
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/PrincessPestilence/pseuds/MiladyMorningstar
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Heaven may have forgotten about us, and we may have been left for dead with the Devil and his pets, and all the godless damned here in on Earth, but I don't need God. </p><p>There is no God down here.</p><p>There's just Danny.</p><p>And he's mine.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Godless

**Author's Note:**

> I've wanted to write this for about a year and a half?-ish. I recently rewatched the movie again, and I wanted to play with some Stockholm Syndrome. 
> 
> Giftfic for Miss Maggie Magpie *heart*
> 
> I recommend listening to Rhianna's Umbrella while reading this. Or the cover by All Time Low. I listened to it while I wrote this, I think it fits with the theme.

Danny lit a cigarette and leant back against the ruin of what used to be an apartment building, now serving as the base for their tribe. I kneel beside him, body flush against his strong thigh. He looks beautiful; hair and beard untamed, leather jacket framing his bare chest and the long string of mementos; reminders of how he's provided for us, fed and protected us. I rub my cheek against the worn, frayed denim of his jeans, overjoyed to be freed of my mask for tonight, that I can feel him, strong and steady on my skin. He's wearing his crown tonight; the skull of the previous leader of this group of damned souls. He looks like a tribal chieftain. A king. A god.

 

“Justin...” Danny rumbles, unconcerned. “Justin, Justin, Justin. Why you gotta be like this, man?” He spreads his hands wide – I don't need the leash any more – and gestures to our home. “Haven't I taken care of you, Justin? Fed you? Kept a roof over your head?” Danny shakes his head, disappointed. I don't much care about what happens to Justin, ungrateful little whore that he is.

 

“You're a fucking monster, McBride!” Justin spits, lunging futilely from where he's handcuffed to the street-light.

 

Suddenly Danny's not so cool anymore.

 

“This is Hell, Bieber, we're all fucking monsters!” he screams, and I flinch reflectively, hunching my shoulders.

 

Danny sticks thick fingers underneath the collar around Justin's neck, tugging sharply, until the boy is arched painfully forward. “Take a fucking look around you, Justin! The world is in ruins, there are demons on the fucking _streets_ you stupid fucking whore! You're here because you're a worthless little nothing, Justin. Just a prideful, envious, greedy little sinner. Don't even have the balls to fight me like a fucking man, you spineless backstabbing little cunt! You're just as much a fucking monster as I am; I just happen to know how to take charge a little better. You wanna be leader of this outfit? You wanna free your fucking little 'friends' from my 'tyrrany'?” he finger-quoted, “You'd all be dead in a fucking day. The devil is the least of your worries on these streets, Bieber, and everybody here knows it. I'm the one who makes the fuckin' plans, I'm the one who found us a fuckin _home_ , who _feeds_ your hungry little bellies, and you think anyone here would help you fuck me over?!”

 

Danny leans in close, nose nearly brushing against Justin's, breath warm on his face, “Your place was to provide a wet hole for our scouts to fuck as reward for doing some actual fucking work around this joint. This isn't the fucking 'revolution' you stupid Canadian bitch, it isn't gonna get much better than this, and now you've fucked yourself.” Danny scoffs and lets go of the collar, stepping back from the pole.

 

“Whatever. One less mouth to feed will at least provide a bit of meat.” Before Justin can say anything else, Danny jabs his switch-blade into his belly, ignoring the agonizing screams he's long since grown used to, letting Justin's own struggling widen the hole. Danny pulls the knife out, sticks the handle between his teeth and shoves his hand in, pulling out whatever organ he wraps his fist around – kidney or liver or something, I don't know. He rips a mouthful of the iron-y meat – we've all grown used to eating raw – blood dripping down his beard and neck. Swallowing his bite, he licks his lips, sniffs and announces “Light 'im up!”

 

I perk up as he comes back to me, leaning my head up as he stands beside me again. Danny tosses the liver, or whatever it is, my way, and it lands at the ground a few inches in front of me.

 

Gratefully, I kiss the once-white Michael Jordans he has crossed in front of him as he leans back against the brick to watch the execution, and I bow forward to enjoy my treat. My belly's been rumbling since I heard of the execution, and I couldn't stop my mouth from watering when Danny took that meat from Justin's bleeding belly. I lean onto my forearms, holding the slippery organ between my hands and dig my teeth in.

 

Danny likes it when I eat with my ass in the air; likes to know I'm his bitch, that he's my master. He rewards me with food when I behave how he likes. If I'm very good, he'll pet me. He'll tell me he's proud. That he loves me.

 

He does love me, even if he doesn't say it all the time.

 

Justin's breathless, gasping cries can't be heard any more over the roar of the fire – hot enough to cook, but not cremate. The smell of burning meat permeates the air and I moan, chewing my reward. I set my knees wider, presenting myself for my master, my cock already half hard and heavy in my jockstrap.

 

I know that Danny notices, though he doesn't say anything, but I hear his shoes as he steps behind me, crunching on the little pebbles there. My cock twitches, and I stuff my last mouthful in all at once, chewing even as I lay my head down on my bloody hands.

 

Danny chuckles appreciatively, nudging my jock with the leathery tip of his shoe. I keen a bit, and push my ass up, wanting.

 

Obligingly, Danny kneels behind me – I feel the rough denim against the back of my thighs and my breath hitches. My greedy hole clenches in anticipated, and I hear the tell-tale rustle and zip when he undoes his fly. I know the executions turn him on, so they turn me on too. I've been hot since Justin was arrested.

 

I stumble a little, my knee-pad slipping against the asphalt, thrown off-balance from how hard my thighs are shaking. I want him so bad.

 

“Easy there, Bitch,” Danny mumbles quietly for only me to hear. Sometimes he likes to make a show out of us, but no one's watching now, too busy watching the fire, so his words are just for me.

 

I am expecting the blunt tip of his cock when it slips between my ass-cheeks, framed as they are by the assless jockstrap. Still, I groan appreciatively when he finally breaches my hole, slick with what I can only assume to be blood and precum. I know he loves the stick, and slide of the blood, and the creamy color it makes when it mixes with his jizz and dribbles down my thighs.

 

I'm not so tight anymore, Danny fucks me so often that I'm wide and open for him all the time. My hole is still wet, in fact, from earlier, from the load he blew in me.

 

Danny grunts harshly as he bottoms out, the flies of his pants scratching the bottom curve of my ass. “So good for me, Bitch. Such a nice loose little cunt you have. Fits me like a glove. So hot 'n fuckin'-” He slams into me, not bothering to go slowly, I can tell he doesn't want to draw it out. I know he's been hard as long as I have. This is our ritual, our tradition

 

He loves the kill as much as he loves the food it brings. Loves the blood and the screaming, the begging, the struggling. Loves the power it gives him – he's addicted to it, and it suits him. I love it when he gets like this, the energy the bloodlust gives him, the raw _power_ he fucks me with like he just needs to take, and take, and take, and I give it to him.

 

I give him everything because he takes care of me.

 

That's why I don't understand what Justin's _problem_ was. His job was easy: just lay back and be a good little whore and they'd take care of him. The whores get scraps of all the food, we get to stay home out of the streets with the demons and the gangs, and the rotting, wasted flesh of the forgotten. We've got it easy. We've got it good, here with Danny's tribe. Everyone's got a purpose, and he's always got a plan, always provides for us. I'm proud to be his bitch. I'm happy that my dirty cunt belongs to Danny McBride, while all those other whores get fucked by whoever's eye they catch that night. Men – and women – have died trying to take what belongs to Danny.

 

That's how I know he loves me. 'Cause I'm _his_ whore, _his_ bitch, _his_ pet, his _lover_.

 

Because _do_. I _love_ my Master.

 

Heaven may have forgotten about us, and we may have been left for dead with the Devil and his pets, and all the godless damned here in on Earth, but I don't _need_ God.

 

There _is_ no God down here.

 

There's just Danny.

 

And he's mine.


End file.
